


Everything is Red, Red is Nothing.

by Bekbek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Families of Choice, Gen, Healing, M/M, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Running Away, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2020-06-27 06:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19785535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekbek/pseuds/Bekbek
Summary: Red is the blood dripping off the edge of a blade, Red is the skin under his eyes after so long of no sleep, Red is dying embers backed by black soot, Red is the rage and bloodlust swimming in his mine, Red is the last thing the little hunter girl sees, Red is Alpha eyes blown wide with horror, Red is everything, Red is nothing, Red is the only color that still exists.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Red is the blood dripping off the edge of a blade, Red is the skin under his eyes after so long of no sleep, Red is dying embers backed by black soot, Red is the rage and bloodlust swimming in his mine, Red is the last thing the little hunter girl sees, Red is Alpha eyes blown wide with horror, Red is everything, Red is nothing, Red is the only color that still exists.  _

Stiles rips himself from nightmares, from memories of crimes done by his body if not by his mind. His hands still feel like they're wrapped around a katana, like the grip is burned into his palms. He stuffs a fist between his teeth and bites down hard, gagging when the bright red taste of blood explodes on his tongue. The pain grounds him, pulls his back into reality and away from the horrors in his head. When he feels like he can breath without screaming his pulls his hand away, counts his fingers.  _ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. It's me, I’m me and nothing else.  _

How he wished it was true. How he wished he didn't see the teeth marks already fading from his knuckles, how he could feel that there was a wolf sitting on his roof, how he could sense his father's fretful sleep down the hall. Whatever had happened to destroy the Nogitsune, it hadn’t worked. Or at least not fully. Something was still wrong, some crucial piece deep in his soul missing. Something inside him had become twisted, no longer fully human in all the ways that mattered. He might not be a chaos demon any longer, but was he really still Stiles Stilinski?

He didn’t know anymore. So much of his life had been spent lost, drifting from tragedy to tragedy with some kind of detached understanding. Now he was in a full tailspin and sick with the dizzying sense of wrongness that filled him with every breath. His own father flinched away from his eyes, and Stiles  _ didn’t blame him.  _ That was probably the worst part. He didn't blame his dad, or Scott, or Derek, or any of the puppies,  _ never  _ could blame Allison, he didn’t blame any of them for staying away. He had nearly killed them and destroyed the whole town with a fucking smile. Even with the demon destroyed it was hard to cope when it had been wearing Stiles’ face to leave them bloody and worn. 

So he drifted. He woke up after a few hours of terror filled sleep, he went down stairs and ate while avoiding eye contact with his father, he went back up stairs and tried to remember why breathing was important. He had sat through graduation only because it was expected, any excitement to finally be done with school left behind in the mind of an innocent boy. He had flinched when each of his friends names were called, didn’t risk looking up even for a second. His very bones craved the reassurance Pack could bring, but he held back. Held back when Scott's and Derek's eyes flickered red, held back when even Erica shrank away, held back from the understanding in Peters eyes. 

At some point he had faded away to nearly nothing. A week after graduation and he was rail thin with massive dark circles under his eyes. He only left his room for breakfast with his father and to use the bathroom, the rest of the time he sat on the edge of his bed in the dark. A few days ago, when he had woken up and forgotten to ignore the thing slumbering deep in the pit of him, he had heard Issac on the phone. The boy had been talking to someone saying how he was  _ worried  _ about Stiles. All Stiles could think of was leaving two of the people Issac truly loved beaten and bloody. He had gone to the bathroom, lined it with mountain ash, started an ice cold shower and just curled up under the water with a rag between his teeth and screamed. His dad never woke up. 

Issac hadn’t been back since. For the past three days it had been Derek keeping watch on the roof, with the occasional short visit from Scott. Stiles was getting better at controlling the… whatever it was inside him. Scraps of the nogitsune? The spark Deaton thought he had? Random magic that came from trapping a being of pure chaos and energy inside one's own psyche? Whatever it was he had slowly and gently stroked it to life when there was no one around. He wouldn’t risk hurting his father, or the wolves noticing and coming to finish killing him.  _ Though if they did I wouldn't stop them.  _

He was never truly alone any more, even when it was just him in the house. There was usually a wolf on the roof, and on some worse nights he could sense more at the edge of the woods. Two months he had been free, two months without losing time or his mind. The first week straight the whole pack had camped outside, not that they told him that. It had slowly petered out to just being a wolf or two at a time, slowly they became less wary. Stiles had only seen the pack once since the incident. 

That very first pack meeting that he had somehow drug himself out of bed to go to. He had been able to mostly ignore the fear everyone tried to keep hidden, how they flinched and cowered. How there was a barely there hum that he knew came from Lydia, how Jackson had stayed pressed to her side with glowing gold eyes. It hadn’t been until everyone froze that he slowly turned and saw  _ her.  _ Allison had been on crutches, with bandages peeking out through her collar, and stiles could smell the pain on her. Scott had been hovering at her side and when the two best friends locked eyes the true alpha hadn't been able to control the momentary flare of red. Stiles had walked straight out of the loft, he hadn’t said a single word the whole time he was there. 

No one had so much as texted him since, though he had noted almost the whole pack keep watch at least once. The only one who hadn’t had been Allison her self. And gods Stiles didn't blame her, it just hurt so much. He had nearly killed the girl, had thought she was dead when he walked away. Yet out of the whole pack it was her he wanted to see the most, her who would understand what it was like to lose your mind and do something awful. Peter might too, but going mad from being abandoned was different. Peter was one of the most frequent watchers, only topped by Derek and Scott. The alphas probably had the best chance of putting him down, and Peter was probably just nosy. 

There was a noise from outside, scraping against tiles. Stiles attention shot up and he waited, but it seemed like Derek was just shifting. He wondered if the Wolves knew he was aware that they were up there, but they had given no indication of it. Even though it was the middle of May the nights still got pretty chilled, yet he had no visitors at his window. Slowly Stiles pushed himself out of bed, feeling how his whole body fought for each movement. He might end up killing himself eventually, even before the possession he hadn’t been in good shape and he hadn’t worked to change it. 

On near silent feet Stiles crept to the window and slowly slid it open to inhale the cold night air. It was close to 4 am with little strands of clouds covering patches of stars. Maybe Derek would take the invitation for what it was and at least warm up while Stiles was downstairs. The thought managed to twist his mouth in a little half smile. He couldn't find the energy to take care of himself, but he could worry about grumpy werewolves stalking his rooftops. As quiet as he could be Stiles crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. His father had always been a light sleeper, and it only got worse after the reveal of werewolves and the other horrors that made up their lives. 

It was when he was reaching for a coffee mug that stiles heard it, the near silent movements of Derek slipping through the window. For the second time in a very long time Stiles smiled. He continued what he was doing, trying to not let Derek know that Stiles knew he was there. It wouldn't do for the sourwolf to bolt. Not even when the wolf let out a barely there growl. Stiles knew what his room smelled like, smelled it every time he walked in, the stink of terror and pain and salty tears replacing normal teenager smells. He continued to fill his big superman mug up, then filled a plain black mug with coffee and two sugars. 

Stiles crept back up the stairs, huffing in his head when he heard Derek slip out the window once again. Stiles opened the door and inhaled the faint smell of werewolf that he should never have been able to notice. Derek always smells slightly of blood, but so did Scott so it might be an alpha thing, paired with leather and something green that Stiles couldn't name. Moving to the window he put the cup of coffee down and cleared his throat. He had to actually work for a second, it had been so long since he last talked. 

“This is for you, I’ll go back downstairs.” 

His voice was scratchy, like he had an awful cold. Or had been screaming. Stiles heard the choked off inhale that came from Derek before the wolf fell silent again.  _ Looks like they didn’t know that i had caught on to them.  _ Stiles backed out of the room, not turning away from the window until he was through the door. It wasn’t until he was settled back at the kitchen table that he heard more movement. He ignored the sting of disappointment that came from Derek leaping off his roof and speeding out of Stiles’ range. The wolf probably hadn’t expected to be noticed, let alone reached out to, after everything Stiles had done. He didn’t blame him. 

He sat in the dark slowly sipping coffee as the hours passed. At 5:30 his father's alarm started going off and Stiles rose from the table. As much as his father had avoided looking in his eyes for the past two months he still tried. The Sheriff still gave him rough pats on the shoulder and made sure stiles went to school and always left the hallway light on to lead to the bathroom. Stiles may not really care about his own life anymore, but he would still do anything for his father. The guilt he felt when he saw his dad flinching at shadows just added yet another weight to his drooping shoulders. 

Stiles waited until he could hear his dad's door open to begin pulling some cereal out and pouring breakfast. His dad insisted that stiles eat at least that meal, and most the time he managed even when it felt like lead in his belly. John came down the stairs and raised an eyebrow as Stiles poured himself yet another coffee and filled his dad's first mug. 

“You’re up early. Did you get any sleep?” 

Stiles shrugged one shoulder and ducked his head. He had long ago promised to not lie to his dad any more, but he also didn't want to worry him. He heard a low sigh and curled into himself some more before sitting at the table and shoving a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. He had to clench his jaw to keep from gagging around the spoon, the too sweet chemical taste of the cereal stronger every day. His taste buds were ten kinds of off now, making eating even harder. Nearly anything processed or prepared made him sick to his stomach, but he ate it anyway to keep from worrying about his father. 

“What happened to bran cereal only being for old men who needed to worry about their heart health?” John asked into the silence he was slowly becoming accustomed to. 

Stiles risked a glance up to see his dad giving a pointed look at his cereal of choice. The last time he had eaten the lucky charms he once enjoyed he had ended up becoming very friendly with the toilet as he puked everything up. 

“Oh you know, trying to lead by example. Maybe if I join you in the healthy food quest you’ll stop sneaking pancakes from the diner.” 

The sarcasm fell a bit flat, and his voice was still very rough but Stiles had to try. It was his  _ dad.  _ before scott, before pack, his dad was all that he had. And now the trend remained. John snorted, then looked surprised that the noise had made it out of his throat. He shot Stiles a considering look before letting a soft smile spread over his face. 

“I don't think I’ve had pancakes in at least six months, fully healthy here.” 

Stiles narrowed his eyes and pointed with his spoon. He could smell them, the sticky sweet syrup clinging to the sheriff even in the evening. But he didn’t tell his dad that, living with him it would probably be the sheriff that caught on to Stiles’ rapidly improving senses. No need to speed that discovery and invite the trouble it would bring. So far he didn’t think he was on the same level as the wolves, but he couldn’t exactly ask. The Sheriff shrugged and kept eating his sugary breakfast, while Stiles forced his own down his gullet. 

Eventually his dad pushed up from his chair, stretching and popping with a sigh. There were times Stiles was violently reminded that the Sheriff was getting older, yet never backed down from violence. He left without saying another word, only pausing long enough to squeeze Stiles’ shoulder before he was out the door. He stayed where he was sitting, watching the shadows make their way across the floor. It was hours and hours later that a knock echoed through the emptiness, startling Stiles back to reality. 

He made his way to the door, opening it without bothering to check. Before his brain even recognized her face her scent nearly knocked him on his ass. Freshly honed steel, the faint burn of wolfsbane, and well oiled leather all hiding under vanilla body wash. When she smiled it was with a few to many teeth, and Stiles could bet she learned it running with wolves. 

“Stiles, can I come in?” 

He nodded mutely, standing to the side and following her back to the kitchen. She perched on the edge of the counter like it was just any other morning, like nothing had ever happened. 

“I’ve been thinking. About death, about wolves, about what moving to this godforsaken town has gotten me. About finding love, and losing it again. How we fight so hard to hold onto our sanity even when it would be so much easier to let go and let the world burn. I think Beacon Hills is killing me slowly, and I think it's killing you too.” 

He didn’t move the whole time she spoke, barely even breathed. She had met his eyes without flinching, even as he felt the warmth of her blood on his hands. He didn’t know what she wanted, if she came for revenge or just to see what he would do. If she asked him to slit his own throat he would without hesitation, but he didn’t think she would. 

“I refuse to die here, I refuse to stagnate too. I’m leaving, the pack doesn't know and i'm not interested in telling them.” 

For the first time he looked away from her deathly serious face. He could see the handle of a knife sticking out of her boot, the same place as ever. That more than anything solidified that she was real, and what she was asking. 

“Where should we go first?” anywhere she said, he would follow. 

Allison's answering smile was brighter than any flames.


	2. Chaos and Calamity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhhhhhh ignore that last chapter 2. I accidentally uploaded the WIP version instead of the finished piece and only just noticed. this is why we don't post sleep deprived and tipsy folks. anyyyyyyyyway here's the much better one! i hope you enjoy!!

It was Peter who reacted first. They were all training, wolves fighting in a messy pile while Lydia watched. He suddenly broke from the group, head thrown back in a pained howl that Derek knew all too well. He was just pulling his teeth from Jackson's shoulder to ask what was wrong when twin pains raged through his body. Two Pack bonds snapping in perfect synchronization, he instinctively knew it was Stiles and Allison. He roared, pain and anger echoing across the whole of beacon hills as his fellow Alpha and Betas joined in. 

When Scott took off at a dead sprint Derek was just behind him. The younger Alpha had always been the fastest in the Pack, only barely matched by Jackson. The two pulled away, Derek just hoped Jackson would be able to keep Scott somewhat in check depending on what they found.  _ This is for you, I’ll go back downstairs.  _ Stiles’ near whisper and the smell of hot coffee mocked Derek in his own mind. If he had stayed, if he had offered a kind word instead of tucking tail and running would Stiles and Allison still be around? Would their loss not be ravaging his heart? If he just hadn’t been a coward, afraid to look at the devastated boy. 

They slid to the treeline behind Allison’s house. Scott had no such hesitation, standing in broad afternoon daylight scenting the air without a care for who could see. Thankfully there wasn’t anybody around, the closest heartbeat two houses down and slow with sleep. Scott snarled when he caught Allison’s scent, heading in the direction Derek could bet would end at the Stilinski house. They took off once more, sticking to the woods as they ran. When they got there Derek could see Stiles’ Jeep was gone, and there were no heartbeats inside. Still the Pack crossed the yard, barely shoving their shifts down enough to escape notice. 

Crossing over the threshold was like getting punched in the nose. The scent of  _ misery, depression, rage, _ that had been clinging to Stiles long enough to be embedded in the very foundations of his home. Scott whined low in his throat at the very obvious signs of his best friends sadness. Derek breathed through his mouth as he made his way upstairs, doing whatever he could to avoid thinking about what he breathed in. 

It was Erica who found the note, her choked off whimper drawing Derek to her side more than a scream. When he read the words nearly carved into the paper he couldn’t hold in a snarl, which the rest of the pack echoed. Derek knew without a doubt that Stiles and Allison were long gone. If they had any sense they would have held onto the pack bonds for as long as possible before allowing them to snap. Scott was pacing, punched out snarls and whines rolling past still bared teeth. 

“Scott-” the true alpha growled louder when Boyd tried to speak. 

Derek snarled back, flashing his eyes at his fellow alpha. They were a team, snarling and spitting at each other would do nothing in the long run. Besides, Erica and Boyd had always been close to Stiles after what happened with Gerard. All these years later and Derek was still not sure what happened, just that the three came out different. Scott and Stiles had grown apart long ago, but they would still shred the world to help the other. And Allison would always be Scott's first love, his anchor, most likely his mate. If they had ever been able to pull their heads out of their asses Issac would have just been the final puzzle piece. 

With two of his pack, who happened to be some of the most important people to him, breaking their bonds and fleeing Scott would need to be watched. It was surprisingly easy for an alpha to go feral, especially a bitten wolf and so young. Besides the fact that Derek did not trust how exactly the ‘True Alpha’ had come into being. Deaton was about as trustworthy as an Argent, and even more sneaky. After all he was the reason the Nogitsune had been an issue. No way in hell that a Druid, who was meant to be a part of nature, didn’t know the dark spirit lurked. 

“We need to tell their parents.” Derek spoke over Scott growling again. 

He was already dreading how that conversation would go. His muscles wanted to tense in preparation for the wolfsbane bullets that both men carried. He didn’t think either would actually shoot him, but he had been wrong on both accounts before. Scott finally stopped growling, instead his face twisting in concern. 

“ _ What  _ are we going to tell them?” 

Derek just shrugged, everyone knew people skills weren’t exactly his strong suit. He cocked his head, hearing a phone buzz from downstairs. He followed his ears to the kitchen and saw the familiar shapes of Stiles’ and Allison's phones resting on the table. It was Allison's that was ringing, and he could see Chris’ name on the screen. Dread curled low in his belly, he had to focus on not growling at the phone. 

“I vote not it on telling Chris.” Issac spoke into the near silence, sarcasm already filling in his cracks. 

Jackson huffed and pushed off the wall where he was leaning. “Of course you’re not. Scott is. Derek will take the Sheriff and the rest of us will try and find some way to contact them and be sure leaving was something they actually chose and not some elaborate plot put into by gremlins or some shit.” 

Derek raised a single eyebrow at his beta, who just looked back at him cooly. Jackson had really grown up, they all had but him most of all. He was still a rich dick, but most of the hateful attitude had been shed along with his lizard skin. Him and Stiles had also gotten close, slowly but surely as time passed. These days they mostly spat insults in a loving manner. Or at least they had, before Stiles went still and silent in all the worst ways. Four months had passed since the Pack ripped the Nogitsune out of Stiles, yet the boy had never really came back. And now Derek wasn’t sure if he ever would. 

“You think they might have left against their will?” Derek tried not to wince at the hope in Scotts voice. 

“No, but I think someone would have suggested it” Jackson wasn’t cruel, but his voice held no pity either. 

Scotts answering snarl was cut off by Allison's phone ringing once again. They all stared at the phone as they slowly settled. There would be no putting it off, Chris probably already knew something was wrong and would be getting prepared to call the calvary. Unfortunately the Pack just so happened to be the cavalry. 

“Alright, we need to tell Chris and the Sheriff. Check the town and meet back at the loft.” 

Derek sent the pack off, mentally prepping for his meeting with the Sheriff. Peter was the last to leave, hesitating and giving Derek a look before walking out. He would worry about his mostly sane uncle later, if he survived that is. After a moment he just sighed and made his way out of the house to hunt down the Sheriff, it was now or never. 

```

Allison stopped struggling as soon as she entered the doors to the hunters hideout. The men dragging her by the arms snigered and cracked jokes about breaking her spirit. She gritted her teeth, marked their faces, their scents. She would remember, and when the time came to break out she would just leave pieces behind her. The bruises and cuts littering her were already closing up, she had been lucky in avoiding wolfsbane laced weapons. The year and a half since her and Stiles ran away had been rough. 

The plan had been to escape from the supernatural, to find some sense of normalcy to rediscover themselves. That lasted about two weeks until they found a rogue vampire and promptly took care of it. Really they should have expected it, Allison was a hunter at heart and Stiles didn’t know how to mind his own business. Not to mention that the magic Stiles was slowly awakening had lashed out when he sensed the unsuspecting humans fear. From there it had been a short story. 

They had only made it three months before Allison got bitten. At six months she had nearly full control and the duo was back on the prowl as traveling hunters. At a year their reputation had spread, other hunter families knew of them even if not who they were. They were very careful not to use their names, in no way did they want the Pack to know where they were or what they were doing. They had picked up another alpha along the way, when Allison was still new and needed someone to steady her, even if the tiny pack wasn’t quite traditional. 

These days they had a routine. Getting caught by the twisted hunters had been easy, Allison just had to flash some eyes and they fell into the trap. Stiles would be coming soon. She was the bait, and ripped them apart from the inside while Stiles broke them from the outside. They often met in the middle, covered in blood and half wild. Most of the time Allison at least had damn near perfect control, but Stiles still rode a knife's edge every day. They had a routine for that, and managed themselves perfectly fine. 

She only paid half attention to where the hunters were taking her. The warehouse had near perfect visibility from all angles, something that made the hunter and beast in her soul happy. She wasn’t a wolf, even if that was what everyone expected when she had accepted the bite. A wolf had given it, at first Stiles had thought she was turning into a Kanima and there was panic as they tried to figure out how to fix it. Once they started to notice the difference between her senses and a wolfs the research began, and when she finally did fully shift it was into a massive screech owl. Much better than a homicidal lizard in any case. 

Her sense of smell might not be the best, near non existent in fact, but her hearing and eyesight easily made up for it. So when she finally did look up and her eyes locked onto a terrified face framed in golden curls she did not need to do a double take. She slowly tracked her eyes over the pale werewolf standing in a circle of mountain ash, then over the wolf standing next to him. Peter tried to look vaguely amused, but she could see the faint worry. Issac didn’t even try to cover the terror written across his face. 

Allison couldn’t let herself linger on them, on the blood and bruises that still hadn’t faded. The hunters hadn’t realized that she wasn’t exactly a wolf, or that she was fooling them all. She gritted her teeth and continued her scan of the warehouse. Three hunters inside, could hear the heart beats of the four outside. That left one unaccounted for, but for all she knew they could have gone on a milk run. She could see where the hunters planned to put her, right next to the other two wolves. She had to fight down a smile, just for a little longer. 

When they halted Allison pretended to struggle to lift her head. She leaned slightly into one hunter holding her up, while the other started to pour mountain ash in a circle. She waited until his back was fully to her before she made eye contact with Peter and Issac. They were leaned fully against the barrier holding them back with bared teeth, but not a single sound crossed their lips. They had probably learned silence the hard way, or they didn’t want to give up that they knew her. Either way didn’t matter in all honesty. She didn’t fight, just snarling slightly when the circle fully closed around her. 

The hunters laughed as they dropped her onto the bare concrete and crossed to safety. Her knees barked in very real pain and she didn’t have to fake a wince even as she lunged forwards and bounced off the barrier. The hunters just laughed louder at the trapped wolf act,  _ yes ripping them apart will be very very nice indeed.  _ She bared her teeth as she pushed to her feet and started to pace around the small space, one hand tracing against the invisible force. It was a good strong barrier, the hunter that poured it probably had a small amount of magic. Nothing like a spark who burned with icy hellfire though. 

She could hear Stiles, he was just at the edges of her senses humming a nonsense little tone as he moved closer. She would wait until he was ready to strike, speed would be essential when they started. Bloodlust started pounding a drumbeat through her heart, driving up her senses and bringing out a partial shift. Nearly four inch long talons pushed from her hands, staining the tips of her fingers black. When she turned Issac’s eyes were locked on where her hands scratched against the invisible wall. 

“You got bit?” his voice was damn near silent, but her hearing picked up on it, and the horror coating him. 

She just hummed and pushed against the ash. It was starting to give under her force, but not quite to breaking yet. Her face ached slightly as her bones shifted to allow for the massive owl eyes. It was creepy in her opinion, and she could clearly hear Issac swallow around nothing. 

“Not a Wolf though are we?” Peter purred as he took a step closer. 

Allison gave him the same smile that she would have given her father when she was caught sneaking out. If his uncomfortable face was any indication he did not appreciate it. She just turned her back on the two wolves and listened to Stiles finally come close enough. 

“I want the Hunters in here.” She didn’t even try to be quiet, speaking in her normal voice. 

“Hey! Shut up over there!” one of the hunters barked pointing his shotgun at her. 

Allison ignored him, and Issac hissing at her to be quiet as she cocked her head. Stiles laughed like he could already taste the blood she would spill. The darkness in their hearts matched and built off each other in all the worst ways. 

“Sure you can have them. Did you know the Pack is here?” 

Allison shrugged even though he couldn’t see her. It was fun to freak out the hunters, who had started walking towards her with guns drawn. She could sense Peter and Issac backup but she just stayed smiling. 

“I would assume it's because these lovely men captured Peter and Issac. Dear Pack does tend to be so sentimental.” 

Stiles’ laugh was the kind of thing you would hear before finding a knife in your kidneys. It promised cruelty to anyone who faced them. Allison gave her sweetest smile to the two hunters in front of her, the third still walking up on her back. 

“Who the fuck do you thing you are talking to?” one of the hunters growled. 

The other hunter maybe had a little sense, he was hanging back and watching her. Allison could see the moment he realized something was up. He reached out and grabbed his fellow by the elbow attempting to pull him back and getting shook off for his efforts. She would make his death quick, for the gift of being intelligent at least. 

“Boss, I don’t think-” 

Allison didn’t let him finish, instead drawing her fist back and sending it into the mountain ash barrier. Once, twice, three blows had it shattering like soundless glass. She smiled up at the rapidly dawning horror on their faces and was moving before the crueler one even had time to squeeze the trigger. She was silent, she was night, she was death on wings. The smart hunter died before he realized he was the target, her claws punching through his chest like cardboard. The Wolves might have been stronger than her, but nobody could match her speed. 

She was whirling to meet the other hunter when icy blue flames brushed her knees filling the whole warehouse. That would be Stiles making himself known. A laugh that sounded more like a hoot forced its way up her throat even as she lunged for the second hunter. She left his friends blood smeared on his face when she broke his neck easy and breathing. Issac was staring at her like he was truly an innocent who had never seen bloodshed. Or even been at the end of her weapon himself. Peter was staring at the twining fire, frozen in face like the dead. 

“It’s Stiles.” 

Her voice broke the spell, Peter lunging at her with teeth out and slamming face first into the invisible wall. Allison was already running away, aiming at the hunter who had also realized the flames were not burning him. He jerked his weapon up, she almost smiled to see the crossbow. Arrows were much easier to dodge than bullets if you expected them, and bows were nicer on her ears. She twisted out of the way of one bolt, dancing through the foxfire. The final hunter broke under her hands before he could fire a second shot. 

She paused to pick up his crossbow before moving back to the still trapped wolves. Peter was still snarling, but she didn't think he would attack. And if he did then Stiles’ flames would melt his bones where he stood. She slung the crossbow across her back and placed both palms against the mountain ash barrier. To her clean hand the wall felt like cold steel, to the one covered in human blood it felt warm and pliable. She focused, Stiles’ flames had already weakened it to the point that the other two wolves could have broken it. A push and she stepped through suddenly empty air. 

“How.” Peter snarled the word more than asked it. 

Allison was opening her mouth to answer when Stiles screaming her name snapped her head around so fast her neck cramped. Something was wrong. She sprinted through the warehouse leaving the Wolves behind, flames flaring around her like spread wings. She crashed through the doors taking in the twilight scene in half a heart beat. There was a flash of red hair that would be Lydia, red eyes that would be an alpha, Boyd tangled up in one of the hunters. Her attention landed and stayed on Stiles caught up in another hunter. This one apparently also had magic, she looked like she was using the force to choke Stiles who was clawing at his own throat. 

The noise that ripped from Allison was more like the Screech Owl she favored than anything human. She was crossing the parking lot before any of the other wolves noticed she came out of the door. The humans concentration broke when she looked at Allison, she couldn’t say if it was her own claws ripping through the humans throat or the black fox flames cooking her insides that killed her. Allison looked back at Stiles before a  _ noise  _ slammed into her with all the force of a freight train. 

It was like acid being poured into her ears, a knife to the eyes, razor blades shredding her brain. She couldn’t even try to not scream even as her hands clamped over her ears. As quickly as it came the noise vanished leaving only the echo ringing in her ears and a migraine of human proportions. She peeled her hands away from her head, feeling the blood from her ears drip down her neck when she looked up. Across the parking lot Stiles was holding a slumped Lydia.  _ Banshee.  _ Her mind supplied. 

Stiles dropped Lydia on the cracked concrete and started her way again. He only made it halfway before Scott darted out of nowhere and tackled him from behind. She knew they would be snarling at each other, but all Allison could hear was faint ringing. Her eardrums were definitely busted, and it would take a minute for her healing to kick in. Stiles tossed Scott into the side of the warehouse and rounded on him when blinding pain made Allison scream again. A hand flew to her shoulder where a crossbow bolt punched through her front. 

She spun on her knees, ready to leap for the hunters throat. A crossbow leveled directly between her eyes kept her on the ground though. Allison bared her human teeth and silently cursed in every language she knew. So long as the wolfsbane coated weapon was stuck in her shoulder her shift was locked down like Fort Knox. From the corner of her eye she could see Stiles walking closer, hands upraised and clear desperation written across his face. She ducked her head, let her hair slide forward as she panted. This was an act just as much as anything else, put on for the Pack. 

Allison had absolutely no doubt that her father was in the woods watching somewhere, and the Sheriff too. They needed to show them, and the rest of the Pack, that Allison and Stiles were doing what was best. Had to prove that they weren't just the human tagalongs, only kept around because they were occasionally useful.  _ So maybe we have a complex, what else do you expect from the humans that ran with Wolves.  _ But a lot had changed in a year and a half, and getting bitten was rather low on the list in the long run. They were a team, born from hell to help others. So when Allison looked up with teary eyes she knew exactly what was going to happen. 

“A-alpha?” 

The hunters face blanched, his eyes snapping to Stiles as his concentration broke. Allison moved, not as fast as she would have liked but still faster than a human. She went for the crossbow, ripping it from the hunters hands and getting the hell out of the way. He was reaching for her hair when pure power pulsed through the air like a heartbeat. Allison bared her teeth in a wild grin, in control even while bloodied and on her knees. She looked over at Stiles, who was staring at the hunter with death in his eyes. 

“You really should have gone for him first.” Allison still couldn’t hear very well, but Stiles heard and smiled faintly. 

He took a single step forwards, that crooked smile never twitching. The Pack just watched, Derek holding Scott back and Peter with Issac's shirt caught in his fist. Every single one of them looked faintly terrified, of  _ Stiles.  _ Allison started to chuckle, she just couldn’t help it. Hot blood slid across her skin, painting the white in streaks of red. Stiles continued his slow march, shadows twisting and writhing in his wake, madness in his eyes. Not a single lick of Foxfire could be seen, but held loosely in his hand hung a wickedly sharp Katana. 

Allison knew the bite of that blade, had once felt it buried deep in her belly. Even after taking the Bite the scar stayed, fresh as the day it finally healed closed. These days the sight didn’t bring fear, it was comforting. Stiles’ eyes glowed brilliant orange, rapidly being overtaken by black. The poor hunter was in for it, everyone knew that you didn’t touch Chaos’ Calamity. Allison forced herself to her feet, swaying once she stood but staying upright. Still chuckling she made direct eye contact with the hunter, his death would not be a quick one. 

Stiles finally got bored with the slow death walk, be broke into a sprint crossing the ground like the wind guided him. The hunter had enough time to shout in fear before Stiles was pressed as close as a lover, half of his Katana sticking out of the hunters back. He would not give the hunter a chance at life, not like what the Nogitsune did to Allison. No, black flames danced on the edge of his blade, promising a long slow death filled with misery right to the end. Stiles slowly pulled the blade free, even Allison's damaged ears could hear him screaming. Stiles carelessly tossed the hunter to the ground to struggle away his final moments. 

When her friend turned back to her Allison could tell any shred of control he tried to hold onto had been snapped clean. They were each other's greatest strengths, and weaknesses. If one fell the other was sure to destroy everything in their path, whether friend or foe. Allison couldn’t fault him for it though, the very first time she had shifted had been in his defense, and she left countless dead. She didn’t even have the excuse of the mass amounts of near uncontrollable power Stiles kept a tight leash on. So no, she would not fault him for the lapse of sanity, but she would bring him back. 

Allison held out a bloody hand, ignoring the pain that made her want to collapse. Ignoring the poison ravaging her system. Ignoring the heat Stiles leaked into the air like an oven. She kept her eyes lock onto his and offered a hand to help him come back to himself. 

“Chaos.” 

The word held more weight than a bit of sound should. It fell past her lips like a stone, a question and an answer. The Nogitsune had been called Void, but Stiles was not it. He was a whole new creation, and his truth was Chaos. 

He blinked, once twice, the black lightening from his eyes and leaving Fox orange. He took a deep breath, spooling all his power back into his core like errant string. On his exhale the otherworldly presence faded and it was just Stiles standing in front of her. An exhausted and gore splattered Stiles, but her friend nonetheless. 

“Calamity.” 

Allison still couldn’t hear, but she knew the shape of her name in his mouth. Knew the title she had earned and carved into her soul, her flesh. She smiled slightly, and nearly sagged when he took her hand. Stiles stepped closer, his hand hovering over the arrow in her shoulder as he began to feed on the pain. She really did sag then, trusting Stiles to keep her on her feet. He did of course, propping her against his front as he inspected the damage. They both knew the arrow needed to come out, but they could do nothing about the poison yet. Not while they were still being watched by the Pack. 

Allison turned her head and made eye contact with Derek. The whole Packs attention was glued to them, but Derek was the only one safe to look at. Anybody else might just break what remained of her heart. Movement caught her attention, her father stepped out of the tree cover every bit of his attention locked solely on her. Allison was just opening her mouth to say  _ something  _ when Stiles ripped the arrow clean from her shoulder with no warning. Even with him feeding off her pain a ragged scream still forced its way out of her mouth. In retaliation she turned and sank her teeth into his uncovered collarbone, the taste of blood making her feel a little better at least. 

She panted around the skin caught in between her teeth for a moment before forcing her jaw to unlock. Stiles had the nerve to smile at her and Allison bared her bloody teeth. He was already healing, while her body focused on trying to burn the poison from her system. 

“And this is why you’re not Alpha. Much to prone to biting.” 

Allison growled at him and forced her voice to work even if she couldn’t hear it, “Like you would be much better, oh Kind of Bad Choices.” 

He probably scoffed, but her attention waved as he scooped her up bridal style. The pain made her cry out, Stiles not able to keep up with the fast acting Wolfsbane. They needed to leave and quickly. He started to run, every jolt making her whimper. She risked lifting to look over his shoulder just once, catching one last glimpse of the frozen Pack before they were amongst the trees. Her last thought was how much her father had aged before she passed smooth out. 


	3. Change is Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS ALIIIIIIIIIIVE!!! hi yes im back. ive been focused on being an actual adult (ew) with work and school and moving and all that fun shit. anyway, hope yall enjoy! if you want more i have a discord server open to join, where i share teasers, allow early access, and generally rant.

Stiles barely managed to stumble through the door to their motel room before the iron control he had over his shift dropped. Allison might have had better control over her instincts, but he only shifted when he was pushed to his absolute limits. And her being hurt, having to fight hunters, seeing the pack, being so close to his father and not being able to go to him, very nearly fully losing control of himself, he had passed his limits long ago. Allison said her shifting just felt like pins and needles, but to him it was a bone deep ache. Maybe because of what he was, but he had never met another Kitsune to ask. His tails shimmered into existence, and he knew his ears were laid flat to his head in agitation. 

Quinn leapt from her spot on the loveseat, sour worry clanging through her scent. Stiles snarled at her when she tried to step closer, but she just flashed red eyes and took Allison from his arms. Thankfully she had passed out from pain, only surfacing a few times on his frantic run back to the motel. Quinn laid Allison out on the girls bed and ripped her shirt with an easy movement. Stiles nearly gagged at the sight of the black veins spreading from the stinking wound. He was harshly reminded of Derek asking him to saw off the Werewolfs arm when Stiles was barely more than a child. Back then he could barely think of following through, but now he would easily. 

“Did you keep the bullet?” Quinn's voice held all the proper force of an Alpha. 

Stiles just held up the arrow, not trusting himself enough to speak. He was barely hanging onto a mostly human shift, and drove his own fangs into his tongue. The pain helped him focus on what Quinn was doing as she cleaned the hole in Allisons shoulder. 

“Burn the wolfsbane, we need to get it in there five minutes ago.” Quinn ordered it, Stiles didn’t have to follow the Alphas orders but he did anyway. 

The poisonous powder turned his blue flames a sickly green and made them hard to control. He kept a tight hold on the power snapping through him, lest he hurt the people around him. When there was nothing but ash in his hand Stiles snuffed the fire in his heart until there was nothing but embers. He ground it into the open hole of Allisons wound, holding her down when she arched up a scream on her lips. Her eyes had grown to take up nearly half her face, eyeshine glinting in the low lights, and fangs dropping to slice tiny scratches on her chin. Her talons shredded the sheets and bed, but Quinn would be sure to leave some extra money for the motel. They would have to leave as soon as Allison was patched up, run before more hunters heard of what they did or the Pack came sniffing. 

She slumped back onto the bed, eyes sliding closed as she passed out again. Quinn sighed and raked her hands through her shaggy pixie cut, ignoring the blood she streaked through it. Stiles nearly joined Allison in passing out, holding onto consciousness by a thread. He would need to help gather everything, and maybe carry Allison out to the car. He didn’t think he could let Quinn take her again, Alpha or no. 

“Alright. Ok. Take Ali out to the car while I gather everything up here. Both of you curl up and get some rest, we will talk in the morning.” 

The compulsion of Alpha Orders was stronger when he was so exhausted, Stiles just nodded and pulled Allison into his arms. Quinn held open the door for him but stayed a respectable distance away, knowing how close he was to losing it. He made his way to the car, trusting that anyone who did see them wouldn’t call the cops. There was a reason they tended to go for the seediest motel they could find. Stiles laid Allison out in the backseat, strapping the lap belt across her middle. Finally  _ finally  _ he stopped holding back on his shift and let it wash over him. 

Bones popped and shifted with a familiar ache as he twisted and shrank. His last tail shimmered into existence now that he wasn’t using it to hold a human form. Stiles hopped into the car, carefully closing the door with his teeth. He arranged himself over Allison's chest, burying his face in her neck and let his eyes slide closed with a sigh. Yes, he would rest for now, and in the morning they would pick up the pieces as they always did. 

```

Quinn Vestro had only been an Alpha for two years, and she only had a pack for barely a year. For a long, long, time she ran feral and free deep in the forgotten forests of Canada, and there were some days she honestly wished she never surfaced. The days when her tiny, reckless, stubborn,  _ foolish,  _ pack took their second chances for granted. She had done her very best to keep them anchored, to keep them from careening to their own deaths. But sadly she had accepted their decisions long ago. She accepted that no matter how tight she clung she would never be able to hold on to them. 

She knew that the demons they ran from would one day claim them again, weather in death or upon the return of their Pack. Allison had been the one to speak of their home the most, but even then it was only a barebones telling of their history. Stiles just went still and silent when they were mentioned, like the wrong word might shatter him. Quinn thought he might had faded into the shadows long ago if Allison hadn’t been there to guide him.  _ Hell knows a Fox has no need or want for an Alpha.  _ It had been a freshly turned Allison that had needed an Alpha, and even then the Owl shifter was prone to ignoring her. 

Their makeshift Pack wasn’t the most stable, and never meant to last. At first Quinn had tried to sink into them, create a seamless force like the Pack of her childhood memories. She quickly learned how little that was wanted, how the broken pair would tolerate but never claim her. She knew it wasn’t healthy, they knew it wasn’t healthy, yet as much as all three fought against it they had became a family. Faint as a noon shadow yet stronger than steel pack bonds linked them together. She knew the time for them to break was fast approaching, but that was for another day. For the night her pack was still hers to care for, hers to love. 

When Derek Hale came calling with his True Alpha at his heels Quinn would be ready. She would smile through tears when it was time for her Pack to go back home, but she would free them. They had given her so much, and helped her fight her way back to humanity. Their happiness would not be a hardship, and she might actually enjoy not having to worry about the bloodstains. 

_ Maybe I should have known better than to shack up with two pseudo hunters if I wanted to avoid trouble.  _ Quinn rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. She would not give up the time she had with her ramshackle Pack for anything. Alpha Vestro turned her car to the rising sun and hit the road with her sleeping passengers dozing in the back. The car was silent but for the faint sounds of breathing and tires on asphalt. When the sun was fully up and the rest of the world gladly awake Quinn pulled out her phone and called the number that had been saved and never touched for over a year. 

“Hello Alpha Hale? This is Alpha Vestro, I think it’s time we had a talk.” 

```

Stiles wasn’t really sure what time it was when he finally blinked awake. He could see sunlight through his barely cracked eyes, but Allison was still asleep under him. He twitched an ear, listening for Quinn, and caught the familiar sound of her heartbeat from some distance away. He forced his eyes to open fully, tongue lolling out of his mouth in a yawn he didn’t even attempt to stop.  _ So maybe I should try to sleep more than an hour a night, who coulda guessed it.  _ He nosed at Allison's shoulder, relieved to find no scent of rot. The wound itself was just a gnarled scar, but even that would fade in a few hours. The fact that Allison was still asleep wasn’t even that much of a concern, not considering what she had gone through. 

Stiles poked his nose out the open window, sneezing at the cloying scent of gas. That would explain why they stopped at least. He could hear Quinn chatting with the person behind the counter, general small talk as she paid. He loathed to leave Allison alone and weak, but the longer he stayed in his fox body the harder it would be to eventually shift back. He grabbed his backpack strap in his teeth and carefully opened the door, being sure there was nobody around before making a break for the back of the gas station. He didn’t see any cameras, but Stiles still hunkered down behind the dumpster as he started the arduous process of shifting back to human. He had five tails, a very impressive number for one so young, but one was constantly in use for him to hold a human form so he could really only access four at a time. 

Shifting didn’t  _ hurt  _ perse, but it was not a pleasant experience. As a Fox his senses ran on level 11, going from that to human felt almost like being reverted to a toddler. If Stiles were ever honest then he would admit that he barely remembered what it was like to be fully human these days. For as much pain and trouble it caused he still could not imagine giving up the icy hellfire at his core. As a human he had been nothing, just the goofy sidekick along for the ride even when he wasn’t wanted. But he wasn’t that any longer. He was one half of a hunter duo that monsters whispered about, he was a Kitsune burning under the moon, he was Chaos ruling with Calamity at his side.  _ He was maybe a tiny bit of a megalomaniac.  _

Stiles panted on his hands and knees, trying to rein in his own mind as it spiraled. He was naked as the day he was born, but that was common enough to no longer be a bother. He dug through his backpack and pulled out the change of clothes he always carried. Sadly he couldn’t say getting dressed while hiding behind a dumpster was even close to a low point. His vastly weakened hearing could still pick up on Quinn, she had left the building and was filling their van with a fresh tank of gas. He wasn’t quite sure where they were, nothing looked familiar and he had been asleep long enough to be in the next state depending on what direction they ended up going in. 

He clambered to his feet, being careful to avoid the scattered bits of glass and sharp rocks. His shoes were still in the van, but just because his healing factor made most small wounds inconsequential didn't mean he enjoyed them. He picked his way across the parking lot, attention bouncing to every bit of movement or noise that he could sense. There was never any telling when a threat was coming, Quinn was to trusting of her safety. She had never had the encounters with hunters, or monsters that made the dark their home, or the cruelty the world was entirely too glad to heap onto unsuspecting people. Not even Quinn’s stint into being a feral alpha had stripped her of that naivety. 

Him and Allison… well they hadn’t been looking at the world through rose tinted glasses in a very long time. Still, Stiles wouldn’t go back. Even after all the heartbreak, the loss of innocence, the ruining, he couldn’t bear the thought of going back to being the simple human he had once been. Of being weak, not knowing the truth about the world, his biggest concern being if Harris was going to make a smart comment that day. No, not when Quinn glanced at him and flash red eyes as a greeting, not when Alison chirruped softly as she woke up, not when the hellfire at his core shined brighter than anything. It might not be exactly what he had wanted for himself, but after everything Stiles was finally starting to feel like he was finding his place once more.

Stiles slid back into the van, picking up Allison's feet and placing them in his lap. She gave him a small smile, still not quite awake yet. Quinn finished up with the gas before joining them in the vehicle and starting it up. Silence filled the air, all three inhabitants content to ignore the elephant in the van for a few more minutes. Allison slowly woke fully, eventually sitting up to lean against Stiles’ side. They both knew it was coming, and had been expecting the conversation eventually. When their small pack had been forged in loneliness and pain all three had known it came with an expiration date.

“So.” Quinn finally broke the silence, “Something happened last night. I’ve watched you two literally shove your own guts back into your body and have better control. A simple poisoned wound should have been nothing, and you normally would never have thought of waiting to heal it. So I’ll ask, what in the name of all things holy went so wrong?” 

Allison nudged his chin with her head, silently asking Stiles to do the telling. He nodded, making eye contact with Quinn through the mirror. 

“The Pack was involved.” Quinn nodded like that was what she had expected, “it got messy, they didn’t know that either of us were anything more than Human. I say they got the full demonstration on what we are capable of, and didn’t appreciate it.” 

Allison clung to his hand, the sharp tips of her talons nearly breaking skin but not quite. Stiles had seen Chris, had heard the utter heartbreak in his voice when he called after them. Allison’s ears had been wrecked, she didn’t hear the vitriol the Pack spat. She didn’t hear how Scott called him a monster, how they asked what Stiles had done to her. It was for the best, she would have ripped their tongues out of their mouths. 

“We didn’t expect it. None of the hunters had so much as whispered of having two Wolves caught as bait, and we had already scoped them out for two days. I don’t know if it was just shitty timing, or if the community is finally realizing how much of a threat we really are. Either way, we were off our game because of it.” 

Allison nodded, one hand pressing against her shoulder. He had been shot enough times to know that the soreness was probably setting fully in, but it would be gone soon. Long exposure to Wolfsbane made the healing take longer. 

“That's about what I thought you would say.” Quinn sighed. 

They drove in silence for another few minutes. Stiles at least was starting to have the sinking realization he knew where they were headed. Ever since the moment he had fully awakened the Kitsune in his heart the Nemeton had been calling for him. It was hungry, constantly needing magic energy poured into it. Once that energy had been the Hale Pack, the magic they generated on the Full Moon more than enough to satisfy the semi-sentient tree. After their fall the magical implosion was what had woken Void, the sacrifices laid at the trees root could only stopper the problem for so long. 

The closer they got to Beacon Hills the stronger the Tree called to him. It wanted a Guardian, needed one. Every other Nemeton he had investigated had a Guardian tied to it, and the stronger the better. More than the Pack, even more than his Dad, Stiles knew he would eventually have to go back to Beacon for the Tree. even if only to protect it from calling in malevolent forces. It needed a Guardian after all, and had no care if they were benevolent or not. So when Quinn’s brow creased with sudden concentration he knew what she would say next. 

“I called Derek Hale, we are headed to Beacon Hills.” 

Allison bolted upright in her seat, already snarling. Stiles just sighed through his nose. It had been coming for a while, and the night before had only made the inevitable happen. Allison and him could only run for so long, eventually they would have to stop and wait for their past to catch up with them. 

“What the FUCK did you just say?!”

Quinn snarled, but kept the car steady and barely even flinched. Allison's talons shredded into the seats, but made no move on the alpha. Stiles put his hand on the back of her neck, but didn’t bother squeezing if he wanted to keep his fingers attached. 

“Ali.” Allison slowly turned his way, owl eyes narrowed dangerously, “the Pack knows about us now, there’s no point for us to keep hiding. Chris is probably reaching out to his contacts as we speak, and he can easily connect the dots of what we have been doing.” 

Tears welled up in her golden eyes. Allison's face crumpling as her shift melted away to reveal her natural face. 

“Stiles,” her voice broke in the middle of his name, “What happens if we go back and nothing has changed?” 

Stiles chuffed low in his throat, drawing her into his arms and tucking her under his chin as Allison cried. He had his own doubts, and fears that the Pack would continue to reject him, but he couldn’t let Allison see. She at least deserved to go home to be with her father and mate. Allison had admitted one lonely night that she thought Scott might have been it, if only he had been able to pull his head out of his ass. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok, everything will work out I promise.” Stiles murmured useless nothings as they drove on. 

They were going back to Beacon Hills, back to the Pack, back to the literal hell mouth of home. Stiles was ready to see his father, Lydia had been sending him monthly emails with Pack news, even Jackson had sent word a few times. Nobody else had, not even Mellisa or Deaton. But home, they would have to make an impression. Stiles buried his face in Allison's hair, not ready to see the scenery become more and more familiar.


End file.
